Hiring Hall
by Jalinth
Summary: Another short piece, originally done back in 2007. A brief look at a mercenary warcaster from the Iron Kingdoms/Warmachine setting.
1. Chapter 1

**Hiring Hall**

_You walk into the bar, looking for some rough men to do violence to those who would harm your interests. You turn to your guide, and ask him about one such man who catches your eye.  
_  
"Who? Oh you mean him in the corner. I think his names Victor... something. I hear he's solid, never worked with him myself though. He ain't cheap, I know that much. He's a bloody warcaster and is like ta cost ya more then some companies. Not too many merc warcasters 'round and he bloody well knows it."

_He raises an eyebrow at your questioning expression, but explains._

"See, most times when Mercs got some 'jacks, they've got a Jack Marshel riding herd on 'em. You do know what a Jack Marshel is right?"

_You nod, not wanting to betray any more of your ignorance._

"Good. Anyway, War Casters are just too rare and the army snatches 'em up whenever they can. Still, a few do take to that road, and the way I hear it Vic was walking it long before he became a 'caster. Like I said, I don't know much 'bout him, but I hear old Rot-Gut over there knows some. Ain't quite noon yet, so he should be mostly sober."

_You make your way across the crowded bar to a large corner table, covered in greasy food. Looking at the occupant, it is easy to see how he got the name Rot-Gut. The man is hugely fat, and it looks like he can barely walk. Your guide mentioned that he once commanded a company of heavy foot, a good one, until he struck it big and retired. Looking at him, it is hard to imagine how he could ever strap on a suit of armour, but it isn't the first time you've seen a man fall far._

"Victor? Yeah, I've worked with him before. He's a bit of a odd one, good bloke to have with ya in a fight though. Him and his 'jacks saved me boys a bloody lot of trouble a couple times."

_He looks you over carefully, his sharp eyes belying his seemingly drunken state. You can see a hint of the man he once was in those eyes._ "So, you lookin' to hire him? That'd be the smartest thing ya could do on a day, 'cept asking old Rot-Gut for advice that is! Hope ya got deep pockets boyo!"  
_  
He lets out a deep booming laugh, and you can smell his rancid breath even while standing across the table. Rot-Gut takes another massive swig from his tankered and gets back to your question._

"See, he don't talk about his past much. Nothin' strange 'bout that, lotsa men got things in their past they don't want spread about, 'specially us mercs." _he slaps his chest proudly, setting his rolls of fat shaking._ "Still, I've picked up a bit and can guess at more. Siddown and I'll fill 'ya in."

_Looking at the filthy seats, you hesitate, but sit when your guide gestures. You are paying him for his expertise after all._

"Ah, that's better. Don't need to crane my neck ta see ya. Now where was I... Oh yes, Victor. First time I met him was 'bout eight, maybe nine years ago. We were over near Westwatch. Seems that the bloody necros had hammered the local garrison hard, so me and the boys had been hired to cover a stretch of coast. Been a boring couple of weeks, no sign of anything interesting. We were doing a 'nother bloody patrol when the scout came scurrying back. Seems some adventures were having a royal donnybrook with a whole bloody lot of those dead gits."

"So I thinks to myself 'it ain't our job to pull some damn fool adventures fat out of the fire, but the boys are getting boxy and looking for a bit of rough and tumble.' So I tell the boys to move out. Sent a couple squads with the scout to get behind the bastards, while the rest of us went in the front."

_Rot-Gut's enthusiasm at reliving his glory days is clear. He leans forward and starts drawing diagrams in the congealing grease to illustrate his points._

"So pretty soon I could see the fight, and it was pretty much like I 'spected. Some damn fool berks that didn't know enough to leave the fightin' to professionals and got their bums caught in a crack. The was five of 'em and a whole wagon load of walkin' corpses all around 'em. A couple of the poor sods were dead already and two weren't far from it. One though... one caught my eye. He'd gotten separated from the others, and was in a spot of trouble. The deadmen had him surrounded and he was swingin' this big damned sword around like a madman, just trying to keep them back. It seemed to be workin' but I knew he'd get tired soon and that would be it."

_He sighed heavily, remembering. _"I felt bad for 'em, but there wasn't a bloody thing I could do. My boys were still to far away, and there were just to damn many deadboys for us to cut through fast. I saw the lass take a hit and she went down and then the Ogrun just plain lost his head. Landed damn near twenty feet away. The boy with the big sword saw to, and I could see he knew he wouldn't last much longer. I figured I wouldn't be able to do much more 'en give 'em a proper burial."  
_  
He shook his head sadly, then chuckled _"Then one of the deadboys broke his sword... Oh lordey, did he ever get mad then. He started at the busted hilt then up at the corpse that done it. Suddenly there was this huge explosion and bits of bone went flying everywhere. Kid looked more surprised then anyone should ever be. Still, He didn't wait to figure out what happened. He just tore this big damn axe right out of the hands of one of 'em that was still standin'. He took it and chopped the bloody thing right in half, armour and all! Let me tell you, after that things went really differently! Especially 'cause my boys were finally ready. We marched out and set about pounding those blighters into the mud. It was a right good fight, and after we finished there and got back to camp, I took the kid and got him good and drunk. That reminds me, HEY MAGGIE!"

_Rot-Gut stops his story while the bar-wench goes to get him another tankard. You lean back, forgetting __the filthy seat back, and consider what he's said thus far. It sounded promising, wizards seemed to be quite powerful here. One skilled with a blade would be even more useful. Still you wanted to know more before putting down any coins. For starters, what was a 'Jack' and why they were so special anyway?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Hiring Hall: Part Two**

_After a digression on the relative merits the various companies currently looking for work that you file away for future reference, Rot-Gut returns to his tale about this 'Warcaster' Victor_

"Anyway, I didn't run into the kid again for couple or three years. We were down near Southshield, fighting the deadmen again and this time they brought a whole wagon-load of those damned 'jacks. Deathrippers I think they call 'em. Only reason we got out of that one was thanks to that very kid we rescued, back up the coast. See by that time he was already a 'caster, and he showed up to save our bums just like we showed up to save his. Guess the churchies were right 'about somethin' when they say that doin' good could save you, know what I mean?"

_The man laughed at his own joke. It was an annoying habit, but one must learn to tolerate such behavior when dealing with such men._

"Anyway, we were on another bloody patrol when we saw smoke. The poxy nerco's hit a village and by the time we got there, there wasn't a damn thing we could do. We saw what they left behind... and what they didn't, and we were fightin' mad. They hadn't been gone long, so I sent a runner back to the fort and then me and the boys double timed it after the scum."

"We caught up with them not far from the beach. They were takin' their sweet time, like it was some summer stroll in some bloody highborn's park. Bastards! Anyway, we had the numbers on them and like I said we were mad. I didn't bother with no fancy maneuvers, we just formed ranks and hit 'em like a ton of bricks."

"It was wonderful. We tore them apart. Here and there one of my boys would fall, but the next in line just stepped into the gap as smooth as you please. I trained those boys good, I did. Trained them till they bled sometimes, and they both loved and hated me for it. See when you train that hard, it means the real thing is easy."

_Again, the man tells you something you know well already. Still, he certainly has no way to know that. Besides it is an important lesson and one that does bear repeating. _

"Anyways, we were fighting it out with the deadmen when we heard this horrible screamin' sound. Seems this group of blighters wasn't alone, and they had some heavy metal on their side. Those damn bonejacks are nasty pieces of work. Sure, they're tiny compared to a bloody Ironclad but they are still bloody deadly and there were a hell of a lot of them. They hit us on the flank. Second squad was first. I saw them take down one of 'em, but while they were doin' that, two more were tearing them to pieces."

"Soon as I realized we had 'jacks on the field, I shouted new orders. We tried to pull back from the deadboys so we could deal with the 'jacks, but they just kept right on top of us. The Rippers were comin' for my squad next. I'd just got some of my boys back to face 'em when we felt the ground start to shake. I remember one of my boys saying a prayer to Morrow, cause he thought they had a bloody Helljack. Hell, I figured they did to, but I wasn't about to let that stop me from tryin' to take a few of 'em with me!"

"The lead ripper wasn't more then ten feet from me, when out of the brush came this clapped out old 'jack. I mean this thing musta been held together with pitch and bailing wire. Anyway, this 'jack came out of the bush and spitted that lead 'ripper on it's spear just as clean as could be. Well, damn if that didn't just put the fire back in my boy's boilers. They let out a cheer damn near as loud as the 'rippers screams. Course they might not-a cheered so loud if they'd know it was just a rookie caster with a 'jack damn near fifty years old."

"Anyway, right behind this old 'jack came the 'caster. You'd have not believed how surprised I was to see that kid we'd save in a suit of 'caster armour. He musta recognized me to, cause he snapped off this sharp salute before headin' after his 'jack. They made quite a team, a big old granther of a 'jack and a 'caster not much past learnin' what a razor was for. The bigun would stab a 'ripper with that spear and then the kid would finish it off while it was sitting there twichin'."

"They took down the last three 'rippers just a quick as you please. Wham bam and it was over. They were done even before my boys finished off the last of the corpses. We were just gettin' ourselves sorted out and tendin' to the wounded when the trees started shakin' again. What came out but a bloody Slayer Helljack. Gotta hand it to the him though, cause the kid didn't hesitate at all. He just pulled out his sword again and started straight for the bloody thing with his 'jack in tow."

"That's when I saw the deadboy's 'caster. He came up behind his 'jack just as we were startin' to form up again. Scary lookin' fella, wearing something like a suit of 'caster armour. It had these two giant chains floating over his shoulders, all hooked and barbed, just like the rest of his armour. He was a really nasty piece work, believe you me!"

"Anyway, they stood across the field, just staring each other down. If ya've ever seen a couple gunslingers facin' off, then you'd know what I mean. What stones that kid had! There he was with a beat-up old jack that was nearly missin' an arm and the other guy had this bloody untouched 'jack that probably weighed twice as much. Not ta mention the fact that the other guy musta been more experienced, 'cause they damn well don't pass out Helljacks to 'casters on their first raid."

_By this point, you note that Rot-Gut has downed at least four large tankards, and his voice is no more slurred then when you first met him. You can't help but be impressed by his capacity._

"So there we were, lined up behind the kid and his 'jack. I could almost feel the git across the way lookin' us over. I know some of my boys felt it to. They were gettin' a bit shaky by this point. They could tell that our 'caster was just a kid and his 'jack damn near a wreak. 'Gainst somethin' that big... well I didn't blame 'em. Still, we held our lines, waitin' for the 'ammer to fall."

"I don't know how long we stood there, but in the end it was the deadboy who backed down. One moment he was staring, the next he turned around and headed back into the trees. It was the damndest thing I ever did see. Who knows what was going through that thing's mind when it decided to back down. Can't say I'm sorry it did though! What was even more surprising was that the kid looked like he was gonna go after the blighter!"

"Well, I didn't want to see the kid get himself killed, so I called out to him. Seemed to snap him outta it. After that we took our wounded and dead back to the fort. We has quite a celebration afterwards, and for the rest of that ticket the kid didn't need to buy another drink. Way I heard it, the kid even got his 'jack overhauled by the fort's steamos. HEY MAGGIE!"

_Rot-Gut orders another tankard, and you reflect on what more you have learned. Given the prices discussed for some of the other companies, you expect that hiring this Warcaster will be within your means. Certainly it will cut into the numbers you will be able to bring to bear, but it seems that these 'jacks have an impact far beyond what their numbers suggest._


	3. Chapter 3

**Hiring Hall, Part 3**

_Once he gets his new tankard, Rot-Gut finishes his story without any further diversions._

"At the time he was with a merc company. I don't rightly remember the name, but I do remember the commander. She was the pretty little bit of a thing, couldn't hardly believe that she could keep her boys in line, but she did. Course the fact she was a 'caster sure didn't hurt. I guess she musta been the one who taught the kid about 'jack handlin'.

"Anyway, I ran into the kid an' his unit a few times over the next few years. A couple times with him, and another against. We were fighting some Khadoran's and they'd hired a whole wagon load of mercs. The kid's company was one of 'em and he ended up on the line across from me and my boys. He still had that old Talon of his, but I guess he musta got 'emself a new 'jack to, 'cause he had this big old Nomad walkin' with him to. I betcha that it was his bosses, and she'd gotten somethin' all new and shiny. Handme downs 'ya know?"

"Anyway, the fight got started and the kid's 'jacks started across the field. They were 'bout half way across the field when some of our sides 'jacks got in their way. Let me tell you, I'm damn glad that his 'jacks didn't get anywhere near my boys! The kid put up a heck of a fight. His little Talon ended up smashed flat by a bloody Ironclad, but he and his Nomad hit that 'clad so hard it ended up running home to mamma. Then he smashed up one of those Charger's up so bad it wasn't gonna go anywhere without a couple of steamos workin' it over. It was about then that we got the word to stop the fightin'. I guess that they managed to talk out whatever they were fightin' about, so the battle got called off."

"That was the last time I saw him, on the field. I retired not long after that battle, and I spent the next while having a grand old time. I did keep an ear open about the kid, and I heard a bit. The unit he was with, well he left them and went independent a couple years back. Lotsa rumors 'bout why he left, by the one I believe says that he and his boss were sharin' a bed and it went sour. I saw them two together not long before he split, and they had the look of a couple gone wrong."

"Right now, I think he's running three 'jacks. He's still got that old Nomad, and he got his hands on a Charger somewhere. Who knows, it mighta been the one he knocked down when he lost his Talon. Anyway, he got it somewhere and he also got himself a big Mule. Not the fanciest 'jack, but it sure can toss a heck of a nasty shell. That's about all I can tell ya 'bout him. There anything else ya wanna know about?"

_After a few more minutes you take your leave of Rot-Got. Getting away from that foul smelling corner is a great relief, though you must admit it was certainly worth putting up with in exchange for the knowledge gained. Your next stop will be this Victor's table, to take the man's measure for yourself._


End file.
